


Foresight

by emothy



Category: Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-04
Updated: 2007-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-05 05:11:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emothy/pseuds/emothy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuji & Saeki play some tennis, and Saeki shows off his super-skills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foresight

-

They start off easy; a rally back and forth wherein Fuji swings lazily at the ball and yet somehow manages to execute a huge amount of grace as he does so, and Saeki smirks and seems to shine beneath the sunlight. It is strange to be playing tennis at the weekend, when he doesn't have to, but Fuji makes small exceptions such as these for Saeki Kojiroh. Like letting him gauge Seishun Gakuen's tennis courts.

The ball speeds up through boredom of repetition. When the ball seems to be slowing, they begin to hit harder, return faster. Fuji watches Saeki and his movements through half-lidded eyes, and smiles when he sees how intently Saeki is watching his opponent's footwork.

"It's telling," he says to Saeki lightly as he returns a slightly more difficult ball than any there have been thus far, "but you won't get much from me that way. If only it were that simple."

Saeki pulls a face and sticks his tongue out at Fuji, who laughs across the court.

"I've known you a long time..." Saeki says, words idle but his aim is not. Fuji sprints to return it, reaches in time easily. "And small habits are the best for this."

"You use your exceptional vision in such underhand ways." Fuji says, but his tone is still light; accepting the challenge with glee. "So tell me, what next?"

"When you turn your foot outward like that, you expect a return to the left," Saeki says, hitting right. Fuji falters for a mere second, and returns the shot.

"I didn't realise I could be so careless."

"When your eyes go dark, you're thinking about tactics." Saeki says, letting loose an easy ball so as to give nothing away. "Often, it's those goddamned annoying shots pin-pointed at the very corners of the court, opposite corners in quick succession, to tire out your opponent."

"I feel flattered; you must watch me so closely so often!" Fuji laughs. He aims. "Now be suitably annoyed; here comes one."

The ball seems to fly with the speed of lightning, striking the ground in the very corner and boucing away with sharp ferocity before Saeki can get near it. He shrugs.

"Knowing, and having the skill to counter, are two different things." Saeki admits easily.

"You realise I'll be adjusting my game with you accordingly." Fuji says with a smile, but it's hard to tell if he's joking or not; it's unusual for him to be serious about tennis after all. Mostly it must be irritation at having made himself easy to read, even if it's only in one small area.

"You should work on that skill." He continues as they sit down on a bench together. Saeki pulls out a drink, and Fuji gathers his towel up in his hands, but he's barely broken a sweat.

"Yeah, but with you it's something I'll only get away with this once," Saeki sighs. "Another game?"

Fuji shrugs with the air of someone who is willing to please as long as he has no direct objection, and they take up their rackets again.

"I'll let you try once more," Fuji says, bouncing the ball on the ground in preparation to serve. "What next?"

"Mmm, in regards to you, I don't know," Saeki begins, eyes following as Fuji throws the ball into the air, "but it's beginning to look like your Buchou can't stand still in one place for much longer, so he might come on over."

"_What_?" Fuji asks sharply, turning to look behind him as he hits a service ace he never recalls. Tezuka is stood watching their game, expressionless as ever. Fuji flushes red, but only on the inside, as he wonders how long Tezuka has been there. He doesn't look in the least bit embarrassed to have been caught spectating, and in all honesty he doesn't seem out of place to be behind the fencing. Fuji would not be surprised if Tezuka in fact lived in the locker room and made up his bed for the night after everyone else had left of an evening.

Something almost akin to the beginning of a smile seems to quirk the left hand side of Tezuka's mouth for a brief, shining moment. If it had had the chance to blossom, it would have been quite the ironic smile. He leaves then, without so much as a word spoken, or a hand lifted in goodbye.

-


End file.
